


Love past Midnight

by midearthwritings



Category: The Hobbit (Jackson Movies), The Hobbit - All Media Types, The Hobbit - J. R. R. Tolkien
Genre: Canonical Character Death, Dwarf Courting, F/M, Fluff, Fluff and Angst, Implied Sexual Content, M/M, Night Terrors, Nightmares, Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder - PTSD, Sexy Times, Sleeping Together
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-03-05
Updated: 2021-03-05
Packaged: 2021-03-19 03:56:03
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,697
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29868783
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/midearthwritings/pseuds/midearthwritings
Summary: Love could still be found in the depths of a nightmare.(Or : You had just meant to help him sleep better.)
Relationships: Thorin Oakenshield/Reader
Comments: 4
Kudos: 10





	Love past Midnight

**Author's Note:**

> I swear to God this was supposed to be a cute fluffly fic and my brain went like "How about some angst and unhappy ending?".  
> Originally published on Tumblr (@midearthwritings)

Ghosts of laughters still wandered in the room, bouncing on every wall, every piece of furniture. The atmosphere was strange, carrying something you could not quite pinpoint. It was light, comforting in a way, but there was something heavy, terrifying. Like a beast hiding, ready to jump on its prey, it had watched as you feasted and sang this evening. Or maybe were you simply imagining it. Perhaps your senses had been altered by the possibly lethal quest that awaited you all. 

In the darkness of your closed eyelids, you listened to the fire, slowly fading in the hearth. Its soft cracking accompanying your new friends' loud snores in a weirdly soothing melody. There was the angry ruffling of fabrics, not too far from you. Once, twice, and too many times. You wondered if sleep had abandoned someone else, and it made you think of your bed, back home. Those painfully long nights when rest would be stolen away from you, the way you would turn in your bed tirelessly. There weren't enough fingers on your hands to count how many times a pillow too hot to your liking had flew through the room. Another movement, this time followed by a whimper, and you frowned. 

Curiosity got the best of you and you blinked your eyes opened. At first, the room was blurry. You could only see a reddish shape that you guessed to be the fire. Slowly, you were able to make up the details, the sleeping—or maybe awake, that was yet to be found out— form of a tormented dwarf. The now pretty much useless blanket was pushed down his body, entangled around his legs. His dreams must have been troubled, you thought. Unless he was one to wrestle with his bedsheets at night for fun. You sighed. It was not your place to intervene, nor even simply observe. Those were people you barely knew. Would it be impolite to try and help in such a private situation? Would it be even more disrespectful to walk into a King's personal space at night? Surely. How easy it would be to turn over and close your eyes again. But the new pained gasp coming from him helped greatly.

Careful not to wake anyone, you crawled. Silent, like a cat, you moved towards Thorin, staying close to the floor. The fear and excitement of being caught made your heart skip a beat, and for a second, you had to stay still, your breath shaking. The idea of backing away, to go back to bed, did not seem so stupid right now. Although, your stubbornness was stronger. And so you carried on until you were finally kneeling before him. 

Worry and sorrow were painted with sweat on his face, his eyebrows furrowed and his eyes shut tight. In the dim light of the fire, you saw his hand clutching at thin air and his chest rising up quickly as he panted in his sleep like a dog in need of water. Slowly, you reached out to lay your palm flat against his cheek. Perhaps you shouldn't have, for in a split second the sharp point of a blade was pressed to your throat. You had been too bold, you thought, you should have had taken more time. His blue eyes, empty of any emotions, were planted in yours. Any living creature with common sense would have stepped back. You only smiled softly, your thumb stroking his cheekbone reassuringly.

"Be not afraid, my King. I have no intent to harm you." With your other hand, you grabbed his wrist, pulling the weapon away from your skin. His features were hard, his face almost blank. But the subtle signs of confusion seemed too obvious in the intimacy of the night. It was your turn to shift, slightly, scooting closer to him. Planting your heels under your bottom, you brought his head on your thighs. You went slow for he seemed reluctant to do so. A victorious smile grew on your lips as he sighed quietly when his head finally hit the pillow you were offering him. On his cheek, your caresses did not stop in an attempt to soothe him back to sleep. You leaned forward a little and watched as his eyes closed again. "May your dreams be now filled with light to chase the clouds away."

The cold night wind bit your fingertips and the tip of your ears as you rose into consciousness. Your limbs felt heavy and your brain filled with cotton. Each bump of the ground beneath you were assaulting your back and you moaned in discomfort. Those bedrolls were useless and you cursed the one who had made them to be this way. The loud banging in your head indicated that you hadn't had enough sleep, and the black sky when you opened your eyes only confirmed the theory. The soft and regular clicking of someone knitting travelled to your ears and you could not hold the smile that followed. Blessed be this dwarf and his pure heart. 

Through the thick wall of leaves above the camp, you could barely see the Moon and her stars. A few adventurous rays of light reached down, illuminating random spots. You moved to lay on your side. All seemed at peace. All but one. For what felt to be the hundredth time, you took in the sight of his body twitching. Like a sick voyeur, you stayed there for a while, only observing. The tales of battles and desolation told by Balin rushed back to your mind. The admiration in the wise Dwarf's tone, and in your heart. A brave King he would be. But such bravery came with consequences, and nights and nightmares were not gentle with Thorin.

Like you had done many nights before, you stood up, taking your bedroll with you. Trusting your feet to guide you, you walked up to him. It was now a ritual. Waking up and disturbing your sleep to comfort the hurt sovereign, ignoring the strange looks from whoever was on watch. Sometimes you would have to suffer a comment, or a snicker. But again, bless Ori and his soul, he was too nice for that, only throwing curious glances in your direction.

Mechanically, you put your poor excuse of a mattress on the floor, right next to his, and you laid back down. The first few nights, he had woken up, got angry or scared, and even tried to push you away. He was not to blame, really. Anyone, even you, would be frightened to a foreign presence creeping closer at night. One day, though, it had stopped and you were glad to have gained his trust. 

Snaking one arm around his waist, you brought his head to your chest with the other. Immediately, as if a spell had been cast, the shaking came to an end, and the noises escaping his parted lips died down. 

To say you did not enjoy the situation at least a little would be a lie, and you were no liar. This was pleasant, very lovely, almost making you dread the time it would have to stop. When this day would arrive, you would miss the proximity greatly. The body heat, the soft hair under your fingers, even the rough beard rubbing and irritating your skin when he would end up with his face in the crook of your neck. Through the thick layers of his clothing, you could sometimes hear his heart beating like drums. Was it in fear or relief? That, you would never know. 

"I will have enough time to think about the end when it comes.." You murmured to yourself, smiling when he cuddled closer to you. As you looked down at the King's face who looked so peaceful in the safety of your arms, you felt waves of love flowing your body. Softly, like a secret, you heard your heart sing.

Time was now a foreign concept. Elves did not sleep as others did, you could hear their footsteps echoing at all time. There was no indication of when was day and when was night. You had spent too long in this cell already, too long for your liking. 

You were exhausted, your body aching everywhere. Sleep was running away from you. Nothing more than the necessary amount of food and water was provided. So whenever you tried to rest, you were cold. Not the way you were when your nights were spent outside. It was a different kind. The one that made you want to curl up and cry like a child scared of the dark. In helping the King, you had doomed yourself and you were now condemned to stay awake until you could be reunited. The lack of sleep made your eyes burn and you heard a sob. It took a while to understand it was coming from you. Hasn't it been for the single tear ending its run into your mouth, it would have gone unnoticed. 

Too caught up in your own feelings, you barely heard the hurt groan coming from somewhere near your cell. For once, you were happy to hear it. Saddened, because you would not be of any help, but happy, for he was not far.

"Thorin?" The name rolled on your tongue, sweet like honey, familiar. There was no answer, but you would not accept silence. And so you called again, louder, clearer, more desperate. 

"I have not been able to sleep since we arrived." The deep voice made you sigh in relief and you crawled closer to the metal door. You had thought of what it would feel like to hear him again, the day you get out of there. What you had imagined was nothing compared to the way it really felt. Your forehead fell to rest against one of the bars. Something brushed your lips, and a soft clinking resonated as the small clasp at the end of the single braid you had been wearing recently hit the cold steel. You looked down at it and smiled. A promise, token of who your heart belonged to. "Only your presence soothes the nightmares."

Young ladies would always talk of butterflies in their stomach. You had never believed such tales, until now. You could feel them, fluttering in there like they owned the place. 

That night, when you had laid your hand on his face, you did not think you would grow so enamoured with the King without a Crown. But if you were given the chance to relive this day, you would not change a thing.

It had been so long since you had last slept in a real bed. The feather-made mattress beneath you felt unreal, and the thick blanket covering your body was exquisite. 

"It seems I will remain here tomorrow when you all depart for the mountain." You declared, rubbing your palm against the soft fabric. Further in the room, he snickered. One by one, you heard him remove his garments, letting them fall to the floor. The men had been too good to you all. They had offered rooms, clean water for a well earned bath, and much more than you could have asked. 

"Will you now?" Resting your weight on one elbow, you straightened up, taking in the sight of your lover—the appellation felt so good yet so strange. He had lost a bit of weight, as well as you and all your companions, but it was barely noticeable. Below the bedroom's floor, you could hear the sounds of the still raging party, and for a second, you wished to go back down and celebrate with the others. But as he stood there in all his godly glory, only for your eyes to see, you knew you would not want to be anywhere else. "Am I to your liking?"

His voice stirred you out of your thoughts. "I did not mean to stare." You confessed, rolling to lay on your stomach. Head falling onto your crossed arms, you closed your eyes. His footsteps were almost silent but you could hear them creeping closer to you. And you had almost expected it when the covers slowly slid down your body, exposing your skin to the cold air. Calloused hands ghosted over your calves, making their way up the back of your thighs. You shivered when his fingertips barely brushed your bottom, the touch almost non existent yet so intense. Finally, his hands stopped their track on your hips, the light pressure he applied eliciting a soft moan from you.

"Night is my favorite time, for it is when I can be with you." He whispered, leaning down to press a kiss to your shoulder. His hair brushing against your skin made you shiver again and you smiled. "When we regain Erebor, I will make sure that every night given to me is spent by your side." 

The unspoken promise of a shared life together. "And I will gladly comply to that request." You said as he pushed your hair away from your neck. Tilting your head to give him better access, you sighed quietly as he rushed down to devour the sensitive skin. He kissed and bit the area in the most tender way and it took you a lot of control to stay focused. "For now we must sleep." 

Effortlessly, you were flipped over, like a piece of meat that needed to be cooked on its other side. "You always cared greatly about my sleep, my âzyungel." The enjoyable coldness of the room was now gone and had been replaced with the sensation of being in a furnace. Everything was too hot, mostly him and his skin. If it was even possible, you felt the flames rise up higher as he huskily whispered "But tonight I intend on keeping us both awake."

The snow fell lightly in his hair, little winter pearls decorating his dark mane. Blood did not look good on him. Yet, the thick liquid was splattered on his face, and it was spreading beneath him in a deadly halo. 

As he laid on the icy ground, waiting for his ultimate end, his hand found yours entwining your fingers together. You held back a sob. A gesture that was supposed to bring happiness, not sorrow. His palm pressed against yours and you watched all your dreams of a future with him be thrown into a fire. Never would you be his consort, nor would he become your husband. Not officially, at least, for he had already won the title in your heart. 

Far away, you could hear the battle still going on. A war that would have to rage without you, for you would not return. Many times, as a child, had you heard that you were to learn your place. How proud would they be, the grown ups, now that you had found it. His panting was loud as he struggled for air, eyes blown wide open. His fight against himself to stay awake a bit longer pained you more than the end itself. Did he fear what awaited him? If not, you would for him. 

Tightening your grip, you brought your linked hands to your lips, pressing kisses to his knuckles. 

"Be not afraid, my King." Only the Gods knew how hard you were trying to keep your voice from breaking. But you could only control so much, and the ugly sob you let out resonated around you. Your tears felt like boiling water against your cheeks. They rolled down your face, crashing onto your hands, sliding between your fingers. The feeling was terrible, and had it been any other situation, you would have been bothered by it. Dampened palms were nothing compared to the loss of your true love, perhaps you could endure the discomfort.

You leaned forward, resting your forehead against his. Cradling his face with your free hand, you smiled softly. "Be not afraid my King. My heart belongs to you and only you, you can go to sleep in peace."

The King closed his eyes, one more time. And after what seemed to be decades, his last breath crashed against your lips.


End file.
